


Dreams and Doom

by Lexebug



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Doomed Timelines, Dream Bubbles, Mild Blood, this is BULLSHIT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexebug/pseuds/Lexebug
Summary: A doomed John and Dave meet by chance in the bubbles.





	Dreams and Doom

**Author's Note:**

> i really dont know what im doign at this point

John slowly drifted along, hovering only a few inches off the ground, hood tracing along the soft grass. Dave strolled next to him, Converse familiar and worn, record shirt not looking a day older than John’s thirteenth birthday. 

They were in Dave’s memory now, a grassy field near an old, faded-looking playground. Moving at a leisurely pace along the edge of a trickling creek, bubbling along cheerfully. It all seemed too happy for the situation. Dave turned to him then, glasses flipped on top of his head to show the blankness of his eyes. “So, this is quite a clusterfuck you’ve found yourself in, isn’t it, Egderp?” He asked, lips twitching up despite the furrowing of his brow. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you could say that. I godtiered, and when I went to go help Rose, well,” he shrugged hopelessly, swinging his hand back and forth in a cruel mimic of a pendulum. “Can’t fight the clock, can you?” He laughed, weakly, and Dave nodded knowingly. John didn’t know this Dave’s story. But it was Dave, and he knew him. He had something to say. His footsteps slowed, then stopped, as he stared at the water flowing over the rocks.

“Y’know, I guess we were lucky in some ways. I had that time shit down pat, it was all good. Ours was shaping up to be a normal session, until that damn dog. Jade’s dog, Bec or whatever? Wicked powerful, as it turns out.” He curled his legs into a criss-cross on the ground, dipping a finger into the water when he sat down. “I got to hug her once, before it all went down. In my timeline, I’d figured out how to get to different places but remain the same age, don’t ask how, I can’t explain it. It just happened. But I never got to hug her again.” The bubble shifted slightly, the playground fading from view, the stream moving more and more slowly. A portrait of a blue lady popped up in the corner of John’s vision.

“When the dog got prototyped, well, uh, something else got thrown in there too. To this day, I don’t know what. But in the alpha timeline, Bec’s loyalty to Jade stayed on through the sprite. In our timeline? No such luck.” The stream turned into cold linoleum tile, flower petals scattered across it. Torn and shredded. Massacred. “Jade… she thought he would remember her.” Blood smeared across the tile. “He didn’t.”

Dave stood up, his shirt shifting to a white suit and red bowtie that probably could have, at one point, been called dapper. But now it looked dingy, torn and frayed at the edges. “I think you can infer what happened from there.” He turned away, and John looked at the new landscape; Jade’s house, spattered with blood and cloth scraps and tattered flower petals.

“If he only killed Jade, why are you here?” Dave laughed now, a sad, broken giggle. He spun around, and his face was twisted into a cruel facsimile of a grin. Across his chest, blood dripped from a hole in his sternum, red and viscous, drying in stark color on the front of his suit. His shades were cracked and snapped, looking ugly and wrong. The temples hung at crooked angles, one dangling precariously.

“You think he stopped there? No, John. He didn’t stop there. He didn’t stop until all of us were dead. Pre and post scratch, trolls, everyone. Never even knew I had that many friends ‘till we were all dead.” He startled as the edge of the bubble rippled, and a foot stumbled through. In an instant, their surroundings were back to the idyllic scene they had been before. The empty chain where a tetherball should have been clanged eerily against its pole. 

“Can’t change the past now, can, Egderp?” Dave said, glasses restored, suit pristine once more. The newcomer emerged fully, a troll in a Peter Pan-esque outfit with massive, cracked horns. They looked around, obviously ridiculously confused. Dave grinned wearily. “‘Nother lost boy. Let’s go.” John followed hopelessly as Dave jogged over to the new arrival, offered them a hand. He supposed it was just a part of death. But something felt wrong, still, unhappy. He watched as the creek flickered for a second to a deep red. He sighed, and went to help the new troll with Dave.

**Author's Note:**

> you are what you yeet


End file.
